


The World as He'll Make it (For Us)

by Anam_Writes



Series: princes love dragons; it's just a fact [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Fluff, mention claude's parents, no beta; we die like men, protective byleth, skip the Hurt, talk about future children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anam_Writes/pseuds/Anam_Writes
Summary: “With every story I hear of them they sound crueler and crueler,” she said. His eyes softened as she held her breath a second more before speaking. “I think I’ll have to do something about it if I meet them.”“What would you do?” He asked. His voice sounded far off and quiet to himself.Byleth reached out her hand at the sound of it, her free palm firm against his cheek like a brace were his head to fall forward.“I don’t know yet,” she said. “But it will be awful. Terrible. I’ll make them feel it.”
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: princes love dragons; it's just a fact [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610308
Comments: 12
Kudos: 254





	The World as He'll Make it (For Us)

**Author's Note:**

> The third short I've posted in a single night. Ease up you say? Never! Based on an ask from an anon on my Tumblr

They sat opposite the expanse of long tables, separated by piles upon piles of books. Byleth had to strain her neck to see him between the peaks of mountains they’d created. Claude grinned behind parchment as she did. 

It reminded him of scented steam that would rise through the air between them and flavour it with pine. It reminded him of whispered secrets they knew of the world. How her eyes would light when he spoke of places beyond the continent she wandered and how his eyes closed when she described ruins that lay across the land large, looming and skeletal. 

They enchanted the other so easily half a decade ago in this very library only a word. Now a look was all he needed to feel drawn towards her. 

“Need something?” Claude asked, trying to keep his voice even when laughter threatened to bubble forth. She looked like a cat with her eye on a bird through a window. 

“Have you found anything that might help?” She asked.

Claude sighed, closed his book and placing it atop one of the piles on the table. “No. I thought looking into Loog as the last leader to defeat the Empire would help but nothing’s stuck out.”

Byleth frowned, but did not stop the stretch of her neck to see him between the peaks of the mountains. 

“On the flip side,” he said. “I’ve learned the first King of Faerghus was a fascinating man.”

Byleth only blinked. The way her mint green lashes caught the light as they fluttered made him feel warm with encouragement. 

“So little information exists but his parents were strict about his martial training if what we do have is to be believed.” Claude continued. He claimed the book back from the mountain and opened it, skimming through until he found what he was looking for. “‘King Loog was left for a fortnight in the forest bordering the family estate. It was his fifteenth year and he had been tasked with the mission of bringing home the pelt of a bear to prove his skill at his father’s own request.’”

Images of days spent falling off the back of rowdy stallions came to mind. The boisterous laughter of his mother from the fence of the paddock rang in his ears. He could still feel the strong grip of his father’s hands grabbing him by his jacket like he was a mangy pup with scruff and putting him back on the bare backs of the horse. 

“A good Almyran can shoot a bow, ride a horse and smell bullshit from a mile off,” his father barked. 

A smack would hit against the mount’s rear and Claude would be flying off again, soon to be bucked. 

He chuckled. “Sounds a bit like my own father.”

When he looked up to share the memory with Byleth he found her head bowed. Her eyes no longer looked for his and he could only see the top of her head and part of her hair. 

He opened his mouth yet did not speak. He’d lost her interest. Fair enough. Some part of him felt foolish that he thought her attention so fully his. Claude took another book from the stack. Perhaps she had found something more engrossing in her histories. 

“Will I ever meet your parents?” She asked after a moment more of silence. 

The question took Claude by surprise but he was more than happy to engage with her on her own terms now. After hours spent hunched over treatises he was not eager to go back to the pages. 

“I would very much like to bring you home and introduce you,” he said. Byleth’s head was still down but at least she had blessed him with her voice now. He wondered at why he always seemed to get her eyes or her words when he so desperately desired both. “I think they’d approve of you. Not that their approval is necessary, mind you.”

She glanced. Something hard played at her eyes. It reminded him of the fire that burned in her so many years ago when they defended Remire or when they avenged Jeralt in the Sealed Forest. It was gone as quickly as it came. 

Looking back down into her book, she spoke. “What if I don’t want to meet them?”

“I see.” He tried to keep the sound of his heart hitting the floor out of his voice. “It is your choice, my friend. But I have to ask, why?”

Claude did not expect to hear her book slam shut. He did not anticipate the molten heat brimming at her eyes when they once more met his or the frustration quivering at her lip. If his heart had hit the floor before it shattered now. 

He stood from his chair and rounded the table until he could kneel beside her, taking her small hand in both of his. It was clenched and shaking against his gloved hand.

He stayed silent on his knees, as she took heavy breaths. He had never seen her have to regulate herself so. 

“With every story I hear of them they sound crueler and crueler,” she said. His eyes softened as she held her breath a second more before speaking. “I think I’ll have to do something about it if I meet them.”

“What would you do?” He asked. His voice sounded far off and quiet to himself. 

Byleth reached out her hand at the sound of it, her free palm firm against his cheek like a brace were his head to fall forward. 

“I don’t know yet,” she said. “But it will be awful. Terrible. I’ll make them feel it.”

“Oh,” he managed. 

The memories flashed all before his very eyes. Every assassination attempt he’d thwarted, every plot he’d orchestrated, every time he’d hid in shadow and listened to the barbs of his enemies. He’d only been a boy. Yet he’d never felt so secure then as he felt now, kneeling at his friend’s feet, her hand in his and his cheek caressed in a strong and firm grasp he hadn’t known he needed. 

He could not help the sound that came forth. He chuckled at first, nervously. Then it graduated into laughter, full and joyous, from his belly and up to each corner of the library it went. It was more hearty a laugh than he’d expected he could have.

“This isn’t a joke.” She warned.

“It’s not,” he agrees. “I’ve just never had someone grieve my childhood so.” He raised himself up and taps his forefinger to her nose. “I’m honoured you care so much, my friend.”

Byleth face becomes a splotchy red. He couldn’t tell if the red was from rage or blushing.

“In truth, my parents raised me for the world as they saw it,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “Cruel and unfair and deadly. When I have children I’ll raise them for the world as I make it: open and kind and loving.”

Byleth smiled. “Your children will be lucky.”

“They will be,” he agreed. “If they have a mother as caring as you.”

Her pulse hammered in her ears and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles before standing. 

“My friend, will you accompany me downstairs for some tea?” He asked. He offered his arm as though he were a proper gentleman who did not just imply that he wanted his commander as his wife. As though he had not pressed his lips to her hand and made her blush messily in the middle of their studies. As though he had not slipped the image into her mind of him fathering her children and remaking the world on their behalf.

“I want your company but I think all this doom, gloom and reading is in the way,” he explained. 

She reached out her hand and took his arm, letting him usher her from the room. 

Her children would be lucky, she thought, to have a father as caring as him.


End file.
